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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27576776">Peculiar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LooneyLlama/pseuds/LooneyLlama'>LooneyLlama</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>New in Town [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Moomin (Anime 1969), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1969 anime characterization, Gen, Not romantic but could be read as pre-slash, Tw for sensory overload and brief mention of vomit, because these boys love each other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:28:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,237</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27576776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LooneyLlama/pseuds/LooneyLlama</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Snufkin's first days in Moominvalley.  A retelling of the 1969 episode "Pappa's Remembered Rifle" with Snufkin's perspective.<br/></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mumintrollet | Moomintroll &amp; Snusmumriken | Snufkin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>New in Town [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015782</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Peculiar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sun sparkled on the water as Snufkin cast his fishing line into the pond.  Another red and white float landed next to his own, and vagabond followed the line back up to his fellow fisherman.  A tiny grin appeared on his face; despite only knowing Moomin for a couple of days, he found the troll’s presence surprisingly comfortable, like an old shoe.  Moomin met his gaze and beamed at him in return.  With that, the two continued fishing in companionable silence.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an idyllic scene.  Snufkin wondered how long it would last.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, do you have permission to fish here?!”  A ratty-looking boy shouted at them from the other side of the lake.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was how it always started.  Snufkin knew the routine by heart.  He tried not to go into towns often on his journeys, but even with his foraging skills, he still needed to barter on occasion.  The experience was the same every time.  At first, the townsfolk would be ambivalent towards Snufkin, simply ignoring the vagabond.  Soon enough, however, they would start treating him like a thorn in their side.  Some whispered behind his back, always loud enough for him to overhear; others asked passive-aggressive questions, acting polite, but with the aim of challenging his right to exist in their town.  No matter how small Snufkin tried to make himself, his presence would irritate them more and more until he was finally forced out.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snufkin could never figure out what it was that made townsfolk hate him so much.  People always seemed decent when they spoke to one another, but as soon as they turned to him, their smiles turned to scowls.  He wondered if he was failing to meet their expectations somehow; perhaps what they wanted was a cute, dewy-eyed little orphan to fuss over and maybe even adopt.  But he was a scruffy teenager with a smelly pipe and a stoic face, so he could never fit in with their perfect little towns.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter to him, of course.  It wasn’t like he wanted to stay in one place, anyway.     </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about?  This pond belongs to everyone!”  Moomin snapped at the boy who had interrupted their fishing trip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You keep quiet, I was asking the other guy!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snufkin didn’t bother to respond, simply packing up his fishing gear and walking away.  After all, nothing he said would change the ending.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>———————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Snufkin?’  Oh, it’s that peculiar fellow...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a strange guy...”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whispers were starting to circulate around town like an ill wind.  It wasn’t anything Snufkin hadn’t heard before, so it didn’t bother him; mutterings of the townsfolk were like a clock to him, a countdown of how much longer he could remain in town before people became openly hostile.  This was just his routine.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only problem would be getting Moomin to understand.  Moomin was a deviation in his routine—a welcome one, but a disruption nonetheless.  Snufkin didn’t want to be the one to explain to the naïve, warm-hearted troll that the citizens of Moominvalley, the neighbors Moomin had known all his life, were the ones preparing to break their blossoming friendship apart.  No, Snufkin needed to think of a fib, and soon.  Perhaps he could blame his own wandering nature.  Pondering this, Snufkin began the trek back to his tent, when a whiff of smoke stopped him in his tracks.  He scanned the nearby buildings until he spotted the source.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shed was on fire.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Moominpappa!  Moominmamma!  There’s a fire!”  The vagabond dashed back to Moominhouse, yelling as loudly as his underused vocal cords would allow.  Townsfolk streamed from their houses.  The Moomins directed everyone to form a long line, and one by one, they passed buckets of water down the line to dump on the flames.  By that point, the heat had become intense and the smoke stung Snufkin’s eyes, but he kept up his portion of the work until a clanging bell signaled the arrival of the firefighters.  Everyone in the line collapsed with exhaustion as the shed was finally extinguished.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Waaah!” A little girl sobbed near the burnt husk; the awful sound rang in Snufkin’s ears.  A young woman, presumably her sister given the resemblance between them, tried her best to comfort the child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Little My, our house is still here.  What a relief that it was just the shed!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s thanks to Snufkin” Moominpappa called out.  “He was the first to discover the fire.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snufkin flinched internally; now the woman was coming his way.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabbed his sweaty hand and shook it vigorously.  “Thank you so much!  It would have been a disaster if you weren’t here!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vagabond reached up with his free hand and pulled his hat over his eyes.  “No, don’t—it wasn’t—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what caused the fire?” Moomin piped up behind them.  To Snufkin’s relief, the woman let go of his hand.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s very strange.  I didn’t use anything that could have started it.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Snufkin was the one who discovered the fire,” someone sneered nearby.  Snufkin turned to see the ratty-looking boy from the lake—what had Moomin called him? Sniff?—standing next to the Hemulen who had called him “peculiar” earlier, with a policeman behind them both.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The first person to discover it is also the most suspicious,” Sniff continued in the same snotty tone.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seething, Moomin ran over to face the boy.  “Are you saying that Snufkin started the fire?!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It makes sense if you think about it, Moomin.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snufkin felt the unfriendly gazes of the townsfolk boring into his head, and tried to quell his shaking.  Oh, Groke, there were so many eyes on him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The police officer spoke for the first time.  “Mr. Snufkin, can ya explain this?”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-well, since I have a good nose...” he desperately tried to keep his voice steady.  “I could smell the smoke.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that just swell!”  Sniff laughed mockingly.  “So it was your nose?  What an interesting explanation!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Hemulen jabbed his finger in Snufkin’s face.  “He could be in league with the Devil!  He can claim anything—we cannot trust this suspicious fellow!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Inspector, we can’t harbor the Devil in this village!  We have to drive this guy out!” Sniff demanded.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on now, he has to be able to tell his entire story.  I’m gonna hear him out.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, the inspector gestured for Snufkin to follow him to the police station.  The vagabond trudged after him, keeping his head down.  Once he was seated, the policeman began his interrogation.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were the first person to discover the fire, but were ya the one who started it?”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snufkin couldn’t answer.  Smoke still hung on his clothes and skin, burning his nostrils with every breath.  The shrill ringing of the fire bells and the wails of Little My echoed in his ears.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To tell ya the truth, I dun want to drive ya out of this village,” the police inspector continued.  “But if ya was the one who started the fire, then I won’t have a choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snufkin was used to people’s stares and rude comments, but being put in the spotlight had been utterly overwhelming.  There were so many eyes pointed toward him, so many hands reaching for him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can ya assure me that it wasn’t you?”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now the inspector was eating dinner right in front of him, some dish that absolutely reeked of garlic.  It was too much.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snufkin was going to throw up.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vagabond made a flimsy excuse and ran out of the police station just in time.  He doubled over and vomited in the grass.  Tears welled up in Snufkin’s eyes as he finally stopped heaving.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to get out of this town.     </span>
</p><p>
  <span>———————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Snufkin made it back to his campsite, he immediately began to pack.  Going through the familiar motions soothed him, and gave him some time to think.  Under any other circumstances, he would have left as soon as possible.  But what about Moomin?  The troll and his family showed him so much kindness; didn’t he owe them a proper farewell?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snufkin shook his head.  It wasn’t like he cared about etiquette, and staying any longer than he needed to would be dangerous.  Moomin would understand.  Even with his mind made up, however, the vagabond couldn’t get his feet to carry him out of the valley.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t go without saying goodbye to the first friend he ever had.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hoping this decision wouldn’t come back to bite him, Snufkin took the path up to Moominhouse and knocked on the door.  The troll’s parents answered, faces lined with concern.  Behind them, he could see Moomin slumped over the kitchen table.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m leaving now.  Thank you for looking after me,” said the vagabond.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moominpappa shook his head sadly.  “I’m sorry you had to go through all that—there’s a lot of strange things going on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snufkin snorted at the understatement.  People had blamed him for crimes and accidents before, but being accused of conspiring with the Devil was just ridiculous.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you ever have the need, you can stay with us anytime,” Moominmamma offered.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snufkin nodded, but he knew he wouldn’t be coming back.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned to her son.  “Moomin, do say goodbye to Snufkin.”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, Moomin.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The troll didn’t even move.  Something ached deep in Snufkin’s chest.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...bye now.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, he left.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t get too far before a yell of “Snufkin!”  and the sound of running footsteps brought him to a halt.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Snufkin, you can’t go!”  Moomin sobbed.  “Please don’t go!”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vagabond was speechless at the sight of the teary-eyed troll.  Just a moment ago, it had seemed as though he didn’t care that Snufkin was leaving.  Why was Moomin crying now?  And what could he do about it?  Before Snufkin could make any move to comfort his friend, the two were interrupted by a clamor coming up the hill.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get the Devil!  Let’s punish him!”  An angry mob of townsfolk came charging toward him, complete with clubs and torches. Paralyzed, Snufkin could only watch the mob crowded noisily around him.  He he squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the blows.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shout silenced the mob, and Snufkin opened his eyes.  Moomin had stepped in front of him, arms outstretched.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out of the way, Moomin, or you’ll get hurt!” Sniff shouted.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moomin didn’t flinch.  “Listen to me: I started the fire!  I was playing with matches!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole crowd was stunned by this declaration, Snufkin included.  That couldn’t be true; he had walked Moomin home that day, just before the fire started.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moomin was lying.  For him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No—“ Snufkin attempted to find his voice, but Moomin quickly interrupted.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay out of this!”  The troll stepped forward.  Even with tears in his eyes, he managed to stare down the mob.  “Snufkin was leaving the village in order to protect me, and now you’re going to punish an innocent person.  Hit me instead of Snufkin!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true!  Moomin is lying!”  The whole crowd looked up to see a hawk swoop over them.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I lie?” Moomin protested, only to be waved off by the bird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t panic, Moomin.  I could see everything from the sky.  She is the one who started the fire!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone followed the hawk’s gaze to a diminutive figure at the back of the mob: the wailing girl from earlier, Little My.  Clinging to her sister’s skirt, she started a new round of sobs.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry!  It was an accident!”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the older girl gently scolded her sister, the now-embarrassed crowd began to disperse.  Snufkin took the opportunity to slink back to his campsite unnoticed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rescued or not, he needed time to recover.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>——————— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even by the next morning, Snufkin was still reeling.  As he strummed his guitar, he replayed the events of the previous night in his head; the townsfolk had started to hate him, the police had gotten involved, and he was going to leave before they got too violent—all part of the normal plan.  Yet, here he was, still in the valley.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moomin had broken the routine.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snufkin felt oddly vulnerable.  He was used to being chased off and disliked, but this was the first time he’d ever been wanted.  How was he supposed to feel?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“CRASH!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His train of thought came to an abrupt halt; Moomin had just dumped a wheelbarrow full of bricks by his campsite.  Snufkin watched in confusion as the troll dashed away, only to immediately return with a bucket of mortar.  In his haste, Moomin tripped over a rock, and the entire bucket wound up spilling over his head.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snufkin couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at the sight, eliciting a scowl from Moomin.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t laugh at me!  I’m trying to build you a house!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” said Snufkin, putting his pipe back in his mouth.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmph.  Well, aren’t you going to help?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vagabond looked away, feeling awkward.  “Moomin, I don’t plan to live here.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?  Are you leaving?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not leaving the valley right now.”  Snufkin paused, choosing his words carefully.  “But it’s not in my nature to live somewhere permanently.”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moomin frowned, considering this.  Snufkin could tell by his expression that the troll didn’t entirely understand, but instead of questioning him further, Moomin simply shrugged.  “Ok.  Do you want to go fishing?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like that, Mumi.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vagabond smiled.  Perhaps he could learn to enjoy being wanted after all.  </span>
</p>
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